


Boys' Night In

by fid_gin, unfolded73



Series: The Loved 'verse [20]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-18 23:08:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1446208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fid_gin/pseuds/fid_gin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfolded73/pseuds/unfolded73
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Looking to entertain themselves with Rose away for the evening, the Doctors find a new level of trust and intimacy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boys' Night In

**Author's Note:**

> Original post date: 6/11/2009
> 
> What can we say, we had a craving for some pure, full-on Tencest. Is there a rating higher than Explicit? 'Cause this one gets that.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

The Doctor in blue looked up from his workbench, where he was assembling the circuit board for his latest project. He sat in the bright circle of light from a desk lamp, the rest of the workshop thrown into shadow. “What do you mean? I have to bypass the quaternary quantum coupling, otherwise this will never work.”

The Time Lord gave him a half-smile. “I didn’t mean that, I meant drinking while you bypass the quaternary quantum coupling,” he said, pointing to the other Doctor’s glass of whiskey, which sat on the table amongst the guts of the machine he was building.

He shrugged. “Rose is off on her girls’ night out, and I am engaging in manly pursuits. Drinking whiskey and building things. Perhaps later I will watch sports on telly and eat a large piece of meat.” The Doctor arched an eyebrow, making the other Doctor roll his eyes. “And you say _I’m_ the one who’s fixated on sex.”

The Doctor didn’t bother to rise to the bait. “Need a hand?”

“Sure, if you like.” The Doctor took the chair next to his duplicate, put on his specs, and pulled a snarl of wires and switches and transistors over. The other Doctor reached for his bottle of whiskey and poured a drink into a second glass, making the Doctor wonder if his appearance had been expected, or perhaps hoped for.

They worked for a long time, the comfortable silence punctuated occasionally by a request (“Pass me the nanocalipers, would you?” or “Hold this still a moment while I connect the relay.”) or by the buzz of one of their sonic screwdrivers. After a little over an hour, the part-human Doctor took off his specs and stretched back in his chair, his T-shirt riding up to expose a swath of bare abdomen above the waistband of his trousers. 

“You may be right, I may be getting a bit too impaired by alcohol for this detail work.”

The Doctor regarded him over the rims of his glasses. “Must be time for sports on telly, then.”

The other Doctor gave him a lazy, half-lidded smile. “Not sure I’m in the mood for telly.”

Setting down his screwdriver, the Doctor met his duplicate’s gaze. “What _are_ you in the mood for?”

They watched each other for several seconds before both rising from their chairs simultaneously, meeting in the middle for a frantic kiss. The Doctor’s mouth opened readily under the assault of his duplicate, and he sucked on the other man’s tongue as he was pushed up against the workbench. He felt the other Doctor’s erection pressed against his thigh, getting harder by the second as they kissed.

It wouldn’t be the first time they had engaged in hot, frantic sex in the workshop, or even the first time that hours bent over their workbench tinkering had led to that sex. Much as they both loved Rose, this room was their domain in a way that even their respective bedrooms weren’t. It was where things rarely needed saying, because they knew each other too well for something as mundane as words.

The Doctor was mentally debating between dropping to his knees and sucking the other man’s cock and letting himself get bent over the workbench for a hard, quick fuck when his double softened the kiss, his hands coming up to either side of the Doctor’s face. After several moments, the other Doctor pulled away and met his eyes. “I find myself...” He cleared his throat. “Wanting to do something for you. Something you want,” he clarified, as an afterthought.

The Doctor was stunned silent for a moment, struck as he always was by how kind and vulnerable his counterpart could be. He leaned forward and ran his tongue up the identical throat before him – the Adam’s apple so like his, the pulse point under the jaw where that one heart throbbed.

“There is something,” he spoke softly against the stubble of the other man’s cheek.

“What?” The other Doctor’s eyes were closed and impulsively the Doctor brushed a kiss against one eyelid, feeling lashes flutter under his lips.

“You’re me. You know.”

The other Doctor’s eyes opened slowly and he licked his lips and nodded. Staring at his moistened mouth, the Doctor couldn’t help himself from tasting his double again. The other man seemed to sigh, to sag toward him, tilting his head and bringing a hand up to cup his cheek as he met the Doctor’s tongue with his own. It was tender, slow – completely unlike the battle that was their earlier, and customary, kissing. The other Doctor’s arm circled his waist and pulled him closer, and the Doctor felt as though he were melting against him. Except of course in once respect, where he was very hard indeed.

“Bedroom,” the Doctor gasped when he was able to speak again. “Yours.”

Inside the door, he pulled the other man close, letting his brown jacket be pushed from his shoulders and working to do the same to his double. The other Doctor paused, regarding him carefully.

“Why do you want this?”

“Don’t you?”

“Yes, but...” He seemed to struggle for the words. “Why do _we_ want this?”

The Doctor shrugged. “Trust, I suppose?” He unbuttoned his shirt as he spoke. “Hundreds of years of other people placing their trust in me...I guess I want to know what that feels like.”

“It’s a bit terrifying,” the other Doctor admitted, his eyes wide and honest. The Doctor noticed he had not resumed removing his own clothes yet, and paused.

“We don’t have to do this, if you’re not...” His sentence was cut off as his twin stepped forward and captured his mouth in a bruising kiss. The Doctor nearly lost his balance and could only hang on for dear life as the other man punished his mouth with his own, his teeth grazing the Doctor’s lips. He moaned helplessly when their tongues met, and the sound seemed to resolve the other Doctor, who pulled away. The other man’s hair was mussed to outrageous angles, his darkened eyes seemed to go on forever, and the Doctor couldn’t help but smile an erotic, small smile, enjoying seeing his own arousal through the eyes of an outsider.

“Get on the bed,” the other Doctor ordered, his voice deep and dangerous. The Doctor did as he said, leaving his unbuttoned shirt hanging over his shoulders, his brown trousers still on and fastened, his trainers laced. The other Doctor walked slowly around the perimeter of the bed, watching him, seeming to size up the situation. He stopped at the end of the bed, bending at the waist to lean over and untie the Doctor’s shoes, tugging them off one after the other. The Doctor lay perfectly still, wishing the other man would get on with what they both wanted. It was not in his nature to be a passive lover, and the other Doctor knew that, knew that what he wanted was to be restrained – apparently part of the domination the Doctor had not even needed to ask for verbally was to torture him by making him wait for that, too. 

The other Doctor removed his socks. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said suddenly, his speech very loud in the quiet room, and the Doctor realized he had been holding his breath. “You want me to just tie you up and get on with it and fuck you or suck you right now, don’t you?” He started to crawl onto the bed, over the supine body of the Doctor.

“Yes,” the Doctor ground out through his gritted teeth. Before he could say more the other Doctor was over him in a flash, his hand over the Doctor’s mouth.

“You don’t get to talk,” he hissed down at him, his breath hot on the Doctor’s face. “You’re always talking and I’m always listening, but now...I think I’d very much like you...to shut up.” He punctuated his sentence with kisses to the Doctor’s throat, but as the Doctor tried to arch up against him, seeking more contact, he removed his hand and rolled off of him, standing once more and turning away. Huffing in frustration, the Doctor crossed his arms up behind his head and closed his eyes.

Moments later fingers curled around one of his wrists, manipulating his arm out from under his head and extending it. He opened his eyes and watched the other Doctor’s face scrunched in concentration as he diligently tied the Doctor’s wrist to one of the bars in his headboard. After crossing to the other side of the bed he repeated the action with the other arm, then stood back to admire his handiwork.

“Should hold,” he assessed, “provided you don’t struggle much.”

“I won’t,” the Doctor said breathlessly.

“What did I say about talking?” The other Doctor looked around the room. “We have to do something about that gob of yours.” Stalking to the wardrobe, he yanked open the door and pulled out two ties. He looked at them as he made his way back. “I like this one,” he said of the one with blue stripes. Pouncing back onto the bed, he wrapped it around the Doctor’s face, working it into his mouth. The Doctor obediently lifted his head and let the other man tie a knot, tight enough that it forced his mouth slightly open, his tongue pressed against the silk fabric. His duplicate was fingering the other tie, a solid dark brown one. “Boring,” he said simply, before the tie descended over the Doctor’s eyes, blocking out almost all of the light in the room. He again lifted his head and felt the tie knotted behind his head. Then a shift in the air indicated the other Doctor had stepped away. 

“Brilliant,” his duplicate said, and he could almost hear the other man’s mouth curl into a smile. He heard the shifting of cloth and assumed his twin was undressing. Eventually, the mattress dipped somewhere near his waist. “These trousers must be getting a bit uncomfortable.” He felt the light pressure and warmth of the other Doctor’s hand on his clothed cock, and he raised his hips, seeking more friction. There was the light swat of the back of a hand against his hip. “Be still.” The hand traced up and down the length of his erection, making the Doctor whimper. “You’re so hard. I bet I could do this until you came in your trousers. Perhaps I will.” The other Doctor continued the too-gentle stroking and the Doctor realized he was probably right. He shuddered with arousal.

After several very long minutes, the Doctor felt the clasp of his trousers unfastened and the zip lowered. He lifted his hips and sighed with relief as he was freed from his trousers and pants. Now he only wore his shirt, unbuttoned and open. For a long time nothing happened, and the Doctor realized that the cool air of the room on his cock was simply another kind of torture. He resisted squirming, but only just.

“We’re quite good-looking,” the other Doctor said matter-of-factly. “Not sure if I’ve said before, but I’m very glad the metacrisis happened during this incarnation of you. I like this body.” The mattress dipped again, the Doctor felt his duplicate’s knees settle on either side of his legs. After a while he heard the soft sound of skin on skin and of a stifled groan. The other man was stroking himself, the Doctor realized, and he gritted his teeth in frustration.

“Do you want me to touch you?” his double asked. “You can nod.” The Doctor nodded, trying not to reveal his desperation.

The other Doctor finally touched him, bare hand on his throbbing cock, and the Doctor moaned. He was hyperaware of every sensation, of every finger closing around his penis and then a single, full stroke, up and down. Up again, swiping over the head with a twist of his wrist, and back down to the base. Long fingers stretching to caress his balls, then a slow pump, hand squeezing tight on the upstroke and then relaxing on the way down. Everything done slowly enough to bring him to the brink of climax without pushing him over the edge. No sound but his own laboured breathing and the creak of the headboard as he pulled against his restraints. 

“I know how badly you want to come,” his duplicate whispered after a while, a slight tremor in his voice the only hint that he was affected by what he was doing. “I know how very close you are.” He let go of the Doctor’s cock, making him gasp in frustration. “But it’s too soon. Much too soon.” Movement – the other Doctor was crawling over him up toward the head of the bed. He roughly pulled the tie away from the Doctor’s mouth and then he felt the hot flesh of the other man’s cock against his mouth. “Suck.”

The Doctor complied the best he could, lifting his head up off the pillow to take the other Doctor’s cock into his throat. It was difficult from this angle, but as near as he could tell the other man was assisting him, his hips angled over the Doctor’s face, the additional pull and shake against the headboard telling the Doctor he was holding onto it for balance. Unable to move, he relied completely upon the movement of the other Doctor’s hips, entrusting him not to push forward too deeply and gag him, and the other Doctor cooperated by keeping his thrusts shallow and slow.

"You’re very good at this," the other Doctor sighed after several minutes, the motion of his hips speeding up. "I think...I could, _fuck_...come in your mouth any second."

The Doctor moaned encouragement, swirling his tongue against the length of the other Doctor’s cock as it slid between his lips once more, but then vanished completely. The other Doctor shifted away from him.

"But I’ve got other plans for you," he continued, his voice slightly unsteady. He replaced the Doctor’s gag before he had a chance to protest.

He felt the press of the other man’s lips down the length of his neck, across his collarbone and down his sternum, each soft kiss punctuated with just the tiniest tip of tongue, leaving wet spots down his neck and chest which chilled in the air and made him shiver. The other Doctor reached his right nipple, under which the Doctor’s second heart pounded at a steady, agitated gallop, and he felt the other man take the hardened nub between his lips. He suddenly bit down and the Doctor yelped against the fabric in his mouth, his whole body convulsing in pleasure and pain. Immediately the other Doctor released his nipple, tongue scraping over the sore and sensitized flesh before moving lower.

The Doctor pulled against his bonds, mindful not to pull so hard that they might come undone. He didn’t want to be freed, but rather wanted to give the other Doctor some sort of indication that this was good, that he was enjoying it, but that he needed _more_ , now, thank you. “Stop that,” the other man murmured against his belly, “or I’m going to leave you here, alone.” He nipped at the Doctor’s hipbones. “Maybe you’d like that...for Rose to find you, tied up and naked and gagged. I know _she_ would.” He could feel puffs of air across the tip of his cock from the other man’s lips when he spoke; his mouth was so close, but he wouldn’t touch him. The Doctor whimpered, tonguing the wet silk between his teeth.

Infuriatingly, the other man’s weight on the bed disappeared again. This time there were rummaging, shuffling noises. A drawer being opened and shut. The pop and click of a plastic lid. And then the other Doctor settled over him again. “Spread your legs,” he ordered. The Doctor did as he was told, the other man assisting by grasping his knees and forcing them to bend up. He felt fingers, warm and slick, reaching between his legs, circling and pushing against him but not quite inside where he needed them and he cursed into his gag, trying to push himself against the other man’s hand. Then the other Doctor scooted forward on his knees, pulling the Doctor up until the backs of his thighs rested against his lap and he felt the other Doctor’s cock, hard and lubricated, at his entrance.

“I’m going to fuck you, now,” his duplicate said, breathing heavily. “And you’re _not_ going to come until I tell you to, have you got that?”

He nodded quickly, desperately; anything to get the other man inside him. With a deep breath, he forced himself to relax. His duplicate groaned with pleasure as he penetrated him, and the Doctor moved against him in short thrusts, working the other Doctor deeper until he was completely sheathed. His duplicate stopped, collecting himself. The Doctor felt full, stretched to the limit. His own cock was bobbing above his abdomen, and the need to be touched was almost painful. He imagined pulling free from his bonds, touching himself until he came all over the other Doctor’s stomach. Exerting supreme self-control, he resisted the impulse.

The other man began to move in long, slow strokes, panting through his teeth. He didn’t speak, and the Doctor reckoned that it was taking all his double's concentration not to come too soon, to make this last more than mere moments. With every thrust stimulating him from the inside, the Doctor felt his own orgasm growing gradually closer, but he knew that with no other contact, he could hang on the precipice of climax forever. It was maddening. He was barely conscious of the animalistic noises he was making as he bit the gag in his mouth.

The other Doctor’s orgasm came on him suddenly and seemed to take him by surprise; one second he was keeping up his measured thrusting and the next he was pumping his hips erratically as he screamed out obscenities. His fingers gripped the Doctor’s thighs painfully.

After a long moment, the other Doctor carefully pulled out, releasing the Doctor’s legs and letting him relax. The Doctor bucked his hips against nothing, frantic for contact and friction. He felt the other man’s body, damp with sweat, stretch out over him. Gently, with awkward, trembling fingers, his double removed the gag from the Doctor’s mouth.

“Please …” the Doctor whispered.

“Please what?” He felt a hand stroke tenderly down his face.

“Please make me come.”

The other man kissed him, then lifted his blindfold off. “I will. And I want you to watch me.” Looking thoughtful, he retrieved a second pillow and, gently lifting the Doctor’s head with one hand, inserted it under him, propping him up so he wouldn’t strain his neck. Again, his duplicate kissed his way down the Doctor's chest toward his straining erection, but this time the Doctor watched him, watched the crown of manic brown hair which mirrored his own moving down his body. He feared he would simply lose it immediately when the wet heat of the other Doctor’s mouth finally, _finally_ enveloped him, and was rather impressed with himself when he resisted, willing himself to last, to draw this out. After a few minutes of gentle sucking, the other Doctor released him and looked into his eyes from up the length of his body.

“You’re holding back,” he said, his voice so low it could hardly be heard. He kept his hand wrapped around the Doctor’s cock, caressing him slowly but firmly. “Let go...that’s it,” he whispered as the Doctor began to shake, his hips pumping steadily in time with the other Doctor’s stroking. “I’ve got you. I love you.” And he took him into his mouth again.

The Doctor came so hard he felt his bones would break, his hearts would stop, his body would tear itself apart. Somewhere in the background he heard fabric whisper as he pulled against his bonds until they slipped free, and he plunged his hands, his fingers into the other Doctor’s hair where he still bobbed over him, making those greedy little suckling noises he always made when he swallowed, barely audible over the Doctor’s own wordless cries. After what seemed like an eternity he felt himself begin to soften inside the other man’s mouth, and the other Doctor released him with a kiss to his abdomen, climbing back up his body.

He attempted to return his breathing to normal, rotating his tingling wrists as the blood flow returned. His twin laid next to him, nuzzling against his side, and the Doctor rolled toward him. They rested their foreheads together in a now-familiar gesture of intimacy. “Was that what you wanted?” the other Doctor asked, his voice slightly apprehensive.

“Yeah,” the Doctor croaked, his throat raw. Had he screamed? His eyes closed and he began to drift, improbably drowsy.

“You can sleep.” The other Doctor, again giving him permission to let go, as if reading his mind.

“Mmm.” He burrowed his chin against the other man’s shoulder.

“Don’t drool on me, Space Dunce.” His duplicate threw an arm over his waist, his hand caressing the Doctor's back.

The Doctor gave a small smile which turned into a yawn. “You were right,” he mumbled, his speech slightly slurred with exhaustion and the endorphin crash.

“Ooh, say _that_ again. Wait, let me get the portable holocorder for that one.”

“It _is_ terrifying,” the Doctor continued, ignoring his other self’s affectionate teasing. “And brilliant,” he concluded, before lapsing into sleeping silence.


End file.
